Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) (7 page)

 
“Whatever, I’m going to see him… in a few hours.” I smirked, playing with the frills hanging from the bottom of Rachel’s bookbag.

“What?! Where?”

“He’s playing at the Viper Room.”

Rachel let out a jealous grunt. She had wanted to go to the iconic rock nightclub since she had moved out here from the midwest.
 

“That’s going to be so hot,” she said. I arched an eyebrow, instinctively crossing my arms across my chest.
 

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I assured her, although something in my tone of voice even gave me doubts. Rachel picked up on it too and just responded with a “Mhmm, ok.”

Then my stomach twisted, a grinding twist that made my body tense up. I shot up and ran to the bathroom, my hand cupping my mouth and hoping to all hope that I could make it to the toilet.

Thankfully, I did.

After I had flushed my sickness down the pipes, I went back to Rachel, who was standing by the couch with a cup of water, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry.
 

“You ok?” she asked, handing over the cup. The cool water felt so relieving and for some reason helped keep the tears at bay. Vomiting in that toilet just reminded me how much my life was changing, how there was now a little life growing inside of me.

“Just a bad dinner,” I murmured, shuffling to my bedroom and throwing myself under the white comforters. Rachel sat at the foot of my bed, her hand resting reassuringly on my covered ankle. I felt safe under the comforters, like I could just close my eyes and then things would be fixed. But nothing was fixed when I poked my head out from underneath, seeing Rachel offering me a comforting smile.
 

I was almost on the brink of canceling my date, but Rachel read right through me and shook her head. “You’re going tonight.”

“But I’m feeling sick,” I said weakly, pouting a little for added effect.

“Well, too bad. From what you told me, he’s a fucking god, so go and do something about it.”

I nodded, reassuring the both of us, but mainly myself, that I was going to go tonight. I was going to see him and I was going to have the time of my life with the man of my dreams. Of my wildest, dirtiest, craziest, and most memorable dreams.

“Come on, let’s go watch something on Netflix.” She patted my leg and got up off the bed, willing me to come along with her. I threw off the safety of the comforter and followed her back to my living room, where we settled in an flipped on the television.

“Since we were on this topic, I started talking to someone a few days ago.”

“Wait, what?” Rachel was usually good about letting me know her recent dating conquests, so her keeping a boy a secret was a surprise to me.
 

“I dunno, I guess I wasn’t expecting this one to actually go anywhere,” she admitted. I propped my head on the armrest and looked at her, seeing a sly smirk cross her face.

“Why?”

“Just didn’t seem like my type at first.” She shrugged her shoulders but then her smile grew. “Until I found out what he was packing.” Her eyebrows did a little jump, and I realized she wasn’t talking about a gun.

“You hooked up with him?” I already knew the answer, but I asked out of reflex anyway. Her smile was all the confirmation I needed.

“You’re bad,” I said, smiling back. She was the just the right amount of a bad influence that everyone needed in their lives. She had already been able to coax a side in me that I never knew I had, granted it was the side of me that thought having sex with Blake was a good idea, but it was still an important facet of my personality to harness. Rachel taught me it was ok to talk about sex and guys and to be ok with expressing myself.
 

“Whatever, you would have said the same.” There was a glitter in her eye which was quickly extinguished by a loud knocking on the door. Rachel lurched back and looked towards the door and then down at her phone, noticing the time on the display.

“What the?” I got up and slowly walked over, wondering who in the world would be at my house this late in the day without me inviting them in the first place.
 

“Who is it?” Rachel said loudly, not waiting for me to get to the door. I held an arm out and signaled her to stay quiet, putting a finger to my lips and looking back to her. She just shrugged innocently. I looked back at the door, half-expecting whoever it was to knock again since I was taking so long to get to the door.

“We’re coming,” Rachel called again from behind me. I cringed a little. Rachel didn’t always think things through all the way, she didn’t realize I would prefer to pretend as if no one was home if it just so happened there was a masked man outside my apartment.
 

I reached the door and peered through the peephole.
 

“That’s weird.”

“What is it?” Rachel got up off the couch and came to stand next to me, her short blonde pixie cut catching the hanging faux chandelier I had by my entrance.
 

“There’s no one there.” I stepped back from the door. I didn’t want to open it. Even though I saw no one outside, I didn’t know who could be around the corner. Rachel, on the other hand, thought it would be a good idea to throw the door open and stick her head out into the hallway that lead to steps down towards the street.

“Yeah, it must have been a prankster.” She closed the door and locked it. Something in how fast she clicked the lock made me think she wasn’t very convinced in her prankster theory.

I shook my head and gave a passive shrug. “Damn kids.”

“Alright, well let’s figure out what you’re going to wear tonight then.” She slapped her thighs and made her way to my bedroom.

I glanced at the door and followed after her.

It was probably just a bored kid.

I SAID A THANKS TO the taxi driver and slid out of the back seat, my jet black heels clicking on the cracked pavement underneath. I tugged at the hem of my form fitting black dress, bringing the length down to the middle of my thighs. The line for the club wrapped around the block, the clubgoers ran the gamut from lost tourists to C-list starlets. The tourists were mainly turned away at the door for either not being on the list or not wearing the dress code while the C-list celebrities were mainly let in after dropping their daddys’ names.

I watched as one of the C-listers flipped her curls over her shoulder, a move that was copied straight out of a reality television show. The bouncer was apparently impressed by her plunging neckline and let her and her gaggle of fashionistas walk in. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long for Alexander to come out after I texted him, his smile beaming brighter than ever. I could tell that tonight’s excitement was overtaking him, he was in his element. And he sure looked the part too.

He had on a rugged, but expensive looking, leather jacket that hugged his muscular figure like a Brazilian James Dean, the white t-shirt and dark jeans only bolstering the look. He was beyond attractive. At this point, it was almost unfair.

He patted the bouncer on the shoulder and told him something, turning away from the people anxious to get in. The next thing I knew I was being grabbed by Alexander and led past the whispering crowd waiting in line, wondering who I was and why I was being held around my waist by the headlining performer.

“This is crazy,” I said to him as he pushed through two punk models, their edgy haircuts framing their bone structure in just the right way, catching the dark atmosphere of the club and reflecting it back. It was moody inside, the black walls reflecting dim green beams of light.
 

He craned his neck down and brought his lips dangerously close to my ear. I knew he had done it so that I could hear him better, but the side effects were making me feel warm, jello-like.
 

“Glad you could make it.” His breath carried over my ear lobe, caressing my neck. I could smell his designer cologne, making me wish I could just bottle him up. Take him out whenever I needed to feel this hot.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” I said back, my voice raised over the music. I returned his smile, feeling like Alexander could be very dangerous. He had the power to step aside most boundaries, I could already sense it.

“Let’s go to the back room.” He grabbed my hand and lead me past the stage that faced outwards towards the waiting crowd, dancing and talking and drinking amongst themselves now. I bumped into someone, spilling their Long Island onto the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” I called behind me. Alexander hadn’t noticed the mishap so he kept walking, pulling me behind him now. I sped up a bit just as we walked through an onyx black door guarded by a herculean bodyguard. Alexander just tipped his head and the doors opened, revealing a dimly lit dressing room that could have easily passed as a rockstars living room. The couch was a velvety red that melted right into the shape of my figure.

Alexander sunk down next to me, wrapping a hand around my shoulder. I could smell the gin on his lips, the pre-show ritual drink I’m sure he had. I could see how the night was affecting him, it was beginning to affect me in just the same way.
 

“It’s crazy outside,” I said, able to talk at a more reasonable volume now. I could feel his hand on my shoulder, his muscular forearm giving me a good place to lean my head.

“And the show’s going to get even crazier.” His eyes glowed, the deep blue orbs seemed to have a life of their own. “This is my first sold out show.”
 

I could see him savor the words, taking them in for possibly the first time. It was like knowing you had won the lottery, but not realizing it, truly realizing it, until the money is in your bank account. That’s
 
only how amazing I could imagine that scenario being.

His hand wrapped around me a little tighter, drawing me closer into him.

“That’s incredible!” My hand found itself on his thigh, feeling the strong muscle underneath his tight jeans. My fingers scratched gently at the fabric, getting lost in this dream, in his eyes, his lips.

Oh no, no. This is going so fast. Am I even ready?

Alexander was going to disarm me completely.

The music playing outside of our secluded rockers paradise drifted in through the bottom of the door. “Do you want anything to drink?” He got up and walked over to a countertop off in the corner, stocked with top shelf liquor and mixers.
 

“No thanks,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t pressure the situation anymore.
 

“You sure? I make a mean Zombie.”

Of course he would be able to make one of the strongest drinks around.

“No, I’m ok. Thanks though.” I felt myself melting even further into the couch. I brought my legs up and leaned on the armrest, admiring Alexander’s back as he grabbed a tumbler.
 

“Shirley Temple then.”

“I’ll take it.” He worked his magic, mixing the drinks with ease and coming back to the couch in probably less than a minute. His arm hung lazily off the other end of the couch, not a care in the world. If he was nervous about tonight’s show, he certainly didn’t show it.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, taking a sip out of his amber drink, dim red lights around us casting an intoxicating spell all over.
 

“Thanks,” I managed to say. It was becoming harder and harder trying to put together cohesive sentences. His voice was becoming predatory, as in the hottest predator that ever graced this earth. He rolled back a shoulder and pulled a strong arm out of the sleeve of his leather jacket, the other one following suit. He tossed it on the back of the couch, his white t-shirt highlighting the waves of tone muscle. I couldn’t help but notice his nipples were making themselves quite known.

I brought my legs closer together, feeling a familiar pressure grow between my thighs. An ache that led to thoughtless decisions and unforgettable nights.
 

“Sky, I mean it.” He brought himself closer, putting a finger under my chin. “I can tell, there’s something about you.” His lips were so close to mine now, parting gently with every word he said, singing me my own private concert. Everything he said was a song, a lyric that was delicately crafted and made to hit just that right emotional chord.

I closed my eyes, losing myself in his commanding presence.

And then I pushed away. I couldn’t do this, not after what happened with Blake. Wouldn’t that just make me a disgusting person? Another girl to strap to a tree and throw down a waterfall?

But Alexander. He looked at me, his eyes questioning what just happened. His jaw so perfectly chiseled, the dim room causing soft shadows to shape him even more.
 

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to find it in me. He was so incredibly attractive and seemed like the perfect guy, for all intents and purposes, but I still hadn’t come to terms with this. I needed to find closure within myself before I could let myself open up like that to Alexander. And some twisted part of me, a part I tried to shove deep down in the pits of my psyche, wanted to cling on to some faint hope that maybe Blake would realize that this was his child as much as mine.

My heart drummed in my chest, not knowing what Alexander would do. Thankfully, he didn’t explode or lash out because I was being a prude. Instead, he flashed another one of those heart-melting, nuclear-powered smiles.

“We’ve got time.” His head tilted down, his eyes still trailing over me and finding my eyes.
 

“Yeah. We do,” I agreed, noticing how he said “time." And he said it so confidently too, as if he knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I looked down, my toes curling a little as I wished we could stay locked up in that room for ages, just getting to know each other.

Too bad that wish was shattered just as a knock came from the door. Alexander got up and opened the door, stepping aside to reveal a sight that sent my heart rate shooting through the roof. I could feel my body clam up and my mouth go sandpaper dry.
 

Because standing there, framed by the roaming green spotlights, was Blake Evans and his supermodel wife.